


Take a Look at This Empty Space

by loveydoveyecstasy



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Post beach-divorce, canon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveydoveyecstasy/pseuds/loveydoveyecstasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For two and a half years, Charles casts his mind out for Erik. For two and a half years, he finds nothing. Until the night that he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Look at This Empty Space

The mantra he chants that day on the beach, when his best friend and lover puts a bullet in his spine. Hours feel like days, and days feel like weeks for the first month after the Beach Incident. 

Life goes on as it had before; only this time, he’s without the use of his legs, and his bed is cold every night. 

He refuses to get rid of the large, king sized bed for a smaller one. He claims having the larger one makes him feel safer. The truth: he hopes he’ll return one day, and if he does, he should know he’ll always have a place in Charles’s bed. 

The children readjust. Sean smokes more than before, and Hank hides out in his lab, while Alex is nowhere to be found most of the time. Charles takes it all in stride, working with them until there’s a sense of normalcy about the place. 

One by one, he searches for new children, children whose families are unaccepting of their abilities, who gladly turn them over to Charles and his School for the Gifted. Children with scars on their bodies and wisdom beyond their years in their eyes. Children who should have known love, but were met with only hatred. 

Life goes on, and a year passes. There is no sign of Erik. Every night, Charles casts his mind out, searching for a hint of the tangled fury that is Erik’s mind, or even for the void left by the helmet. Each night, he goes to sleep disappointed. 

Another year passes, and the school grows. Charles hires several older mutants on as teachers, both of standard school subjects and of ways to hone and control mutant abilities. The mansion is once again filled with noise and life, and Charles is…not quite happy, but content. 

Each night, he searches for Erik. Each night, he is disappointed. 

He sees him on the news occasionally. “Building collapses for seemingly no reason,” “Woman with long blonde hair suspected in bank robbery.” Erik and Raven, the two most dear to him. Of course they’re stealing from banks; they have to build their own school, their own empire, from the ground up. 

If only they knew that all they had to do was ask…

Another six months pass, and Charles still doesn’t find Erik. Even with Cerebro, he cannot detect the tangled fury or empty void. He still cannot feel his legs. He goes to bed alone, with a bellyful of whiskey, and touches the empty space beside him. 

When he awakes, Erik is there, standing impassively in the middle of the room, staring at Charles with a blank look on his face. 

Two and a half years and a bellyful of whiskey can’t change Charles’s ability to read Erik, so when he sits up, it comes as no surprise to Erik that Charles softly asks, “What troubles you, my friend?” 

No questions about how he got there, or where he’s been hiding for the past two and a half years. No screaming or yelling or tears. Only concern for the man who stole his heart and never quite gave it back. 

“I…I came here to ask…” Erik trails off, staring out the window. Charles wishes desperately for the blasted helmet to be gone so he can feel Erik’s mind, touch it and delve into it like he once did. But Erik is cautious now, even more so than before, now that he has such power. 

“You know you may ask anything of me, Erik,” Charles murmurs as he sits up and settles back against the pillows. Erik watches him like a hawk, golden-green eyes not missing a single movement. He pays special attention to the way Charles has to adjust his legs by hand, and the flicker of sadness that darts across his face sends a jolt of pain right through Charles’s heart. 

“I came here to ask that…you forgive me for…” Erik trailed off again, his gaze going to Charles’s legs. Charles smiles at him, tired and relieved and amused by Erik’s hesitance. 

“You were always forgiven, Erik. I never once blamed you for this. You have always had a place in my heart, and I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me, love.” 

A shiver, barely noticeable, goes through Erik at the endearment, and Charles knows he’s won. Erik takes a cautious step forward, body language screaming uncertainty and fear. Charles holds out his hands, eyes locked on Erik’s as he makes his slow advance towards the bed. Finally, finally, his gloved hands are in Charles’s, and he’s squeezing them, and then his head is bending and their lips are pressing together and Charles is  _happy_ for the first time in two in a half years. 

He manages to slide the helmet off of Erik’s head, after much protesting. He sets it on the nightstand before curling his fingers in Erik’s hair and pulling him in for another kiss. 

Erik kisses like a man drinking water for the first time in days; desperate and never able to get enough. Charles tames him, brings him back to the present, and lets his mind sink into the edges of Erik’s. Not enough to know more than surface thoughts, but enough to send Erik his own feelings of warmth, love, and pure, unadulterated joy at having Erik back in his arms. 

They fall asleep together that night, Erik with his body wrapped protectively around Charles as his mind screams out apologies he can’t bring his lips to speak. Charles drinks them all in until he’s too exhausted to listen, and sends a gentle,  _You are forgiven, love. Now go to sleep._

The next morning, Charles wakes up alone, with the faint memory of a kiss on his lips and a whispered goodbye. He finds a note on the pillow next to him. 

_Tonight._

He smiles. For the first time in two and a half years, Charles can feel him, the void in the air. For the first time in two and a half years, Charles is happy.  


End file.
